“Who?” I took out my notebook, folded it open. “I need to know more about this. Are there records of the visits? Anything?”
“I don’t actually recall any names,” she said. “And beyond that, I’m a bit uncomfortable with the level of disclosure here. I might refer you back to Dr. Blaisdale if you want more specific information. He’d be the one to release it.”
I wondered if she was feeling protective of her patient, or maybe just late for something on her social calendar. The clock said 5:46.
I realized I might do better elsewhere, in which case, I had to get going as well. I thanked Dr. Shapiro for her time, and help, and headed back to the administration building.
I was running.
Chapter 114
STILL AND ALL, I was feeling like a real cop again, and it didn’t seem half bad to me. The wall clock in the administrative office said 5:52 when I slipped in.
I smiled across the counter at a young woman with pink-streaked blond hair and a lot of costume jewelry. She was draping a plastic cover over her typewriter.
“Hi, I’ve got a really quick request for you. Really quick. I need it, though.”
“Can it wait until tomorrow?” the woman asked, eyeing me up and down. “It can wait, right?”
“Actually, no. I just spoke with Doctor Shapiro, and she asked me to run down here and catch you. I need to see the women’s forensic ward visitor’s log for the last few years. Specifically for Mary Constantine. It’s really important. I wouldn’t bother you otherwise.”
The woman picked up her phone. “Doctor Shapiro sent you?”
“That’s right. She just left for the day, but she told me this wouldn’t be a problem.” I held up my ID. “I’m with the FBI, Dr. Alex Cross. This is part of an ongoing murder investigation.”
She didn’t hide her displeasure. “I just shut down the computer, and I have to pick up my daughter. I suppose I can get you the hard copy if you want.”
Without waiting for an answer, she disappeared into another room and came back with a small stack of three-ring binders.
“You can only stay as long as Beadsie’s here.” She waved to a woman in a goldfish-bowl office at the back. Then she left, without another word—to me, or to Beadsie.
The pages of the visitor’s log were divided into columns. I worked from the back of the most recent book, looking for Mary’s name under Who Are You Here to See?
For two years’ worth of entries, there was nothing at all. It was obvious how alone Mary Constant
ine had been in this place.
Then, suddenly, a rash of names cropped up on the log. Here was the flurry of interest that Dr. Shapiro mentioned. It lasted over the course of about a month and a half.
I slowed down and perused the visitors’ names. Most were unfamiliar to me.
One of them, I recognized.
Chapter 115
MY CELL PHONE and Vermont seemed to hate each other. Apparently, this was the Land of No Signal.
I found a pay phone instead, called Agent Page in Los Angeles, and had him patch in LAPD. A minute later we had Maddux Fielding’s office on the line, but no Fielding. What a surprise.
“You know what?” I said to the nameless lieutenant on the line. “Screw it. Transfer us over to Detective Jeanne Galletta.”
“What’s going on?” Page asked me again, while we were on hold with LAPD.
Then I heard another voice on the line. “Jeanne Galletta. Is this Alex?”
“Jeanne, it’s Alex all right. Karl Page from the L.A. Bureau office is on the line, too. I’m in Vermont. I think I have important news on the Mary Smith case.”
“I think I may have another connection for you—a murder in Vancouver,” Jeanne said. “What are you doing all the way up in Vermont?”